


Letting Off Steam

by fractualized



Category: Batman - All Media Types, Batman: The Telltale Series (Video Game)
Genre: Fluff, Frottage, Hand Jobs, M/M, Mild Painplay, Missing Scene, Shower Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-23
Updated: 2020-10-23
Packaged: 2021-03-09 01:53:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,639
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27166180
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fractualized/pseuds/fractualized
Summary: Bruce and John have a little fun together while cleaning up after their explosive underground adventure. (Missing scene from Another Version of the Truth.)
Relationships: John Doe/Bruce Wayne, Joker (DCU)/Bruce Wayne
Comments: 6
Kudos: 96





	Letting Off Steam

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ThatHotStuff](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThatHotStuff/gifts).
  * Inspired by [Another Version of the Truth](https://archiveofourown.org/works/15022799) by [fractualized](https://archiveofourown.org/users/fractualized/pseuds/fractualized). 



> For Will, simultaneously the biggest AVotT fan _and_ the biggest complainer that I left it at a T rating. Happy birthday!

"It's no spa," John said, "but I did give it a good wipe-down when we moved in."

Bruce looked over the cold room, his face half-scrunched. To the right, a metal bench was secured to the floor in front of half a dozen dented lockers. To the left were two showers with a drain between them, the off-white tile floor separated from the gray concrete by a one-inch lip. The curtain tracks above were empty. Dim fluorescent lights crossed the ceiling from front to back.

The spot under the closest showerhead had a rusty stain that John hadn't been able to get out, and Bruce walked to the further one. He set his change of clothes on the bench and shook out his towel.

"Without shower shoes, this will have to do," Bruce said, laying the towel over the tile.

John put his stuff beside Bruce's, except for the caddy with soap and shampoo. He stuck the handles over the showerhead, then turned on the water, giving it time to heat up.

When he turned back, Bruce was already shirtless and unwinding the bandage around his head.

"It really is best that I'm here to help," John said, watching the muscles move under Bruce's skin. "You could get dizzy and have a nasty fall."

"You can't help me if you're still dressed," Bruce said as he tossed the bandages into a cracked trash bin.

John giggled and pulled off his shirt, dropping it to the floor, where Bruce's pants landed right after. John started giggling, his arms pulled in tight with his hands over his face.

Bruce cozied up to him and rubbed his wiry biceps. "I think we passed the shy stage last night."

"We were still half dressed," John said coyly– or not so much, as he lowered his hands to play with the waistband of Bruce's underwear.

"Let's remedy that today," Bruce said, unslotting John's belt.

John felt giddy while Bruce helped him undress, and just plain greedy when he pulled down Bruce's briefs and got the full view of his Adonis. Bruce gave John a once-over of his own with an appreciative smirk, though John was definitely getting the better end of the deal, in his opinion. Still, as he took Bruce's hands, he couldn't look away from that dark gaze and walked backwards to lead Bruce under the hot spray– and almost tripped over the shower's lip.

"Who's going to take care of me if you crack your head open, too?" Bruce teased once they found safe purchase on the towel. He reached up into the caddy and pulled out the shampoo, raising an eyebrow. "This looks pricey."

"Harley stole it from a pricey store," John explained, "and I, uh, borrowed it."

Bruce's smirk returned. "Maybe keep it as payment for all your dedication."

He squirted some into his palm, put the bottle back, and rubbed his hands together before weaving his fingers into John's wet hair. The massage was steady, but the tingling sensation traveled quickly down from John's scalp to all his other nerve endings. He laid his hands on Bruce's chest and closed his eyes, breathing in the lavender scent.

"I love your hair," Bruce said quietly.

John laughed and beamed at him. "I love yours."

Bruce tipped John's head back to rinse. "Yeah, the head wound really adds to the appeal."

"It does!" John used his fingers to make sure the last of the shampoo was out. "It means Mr. Tall, Dark, and Handsome leads a dangerous life," he purred as he took the bottle back out and squeezed it over Bruce's head.

"I'm not the one throwing bombs into sewers," Bruce said as he bent over slightly.

John dropped the bottle. "Still an accomplice." He worked his fingers into Bruce's hair with the same rhythm, enjoying how tension visibly left the other man's shoulders. As he moved carefully over the scabbed spot on the side of Bruce's head, he asked, "Does this sting?"

"No."

"How about... this?" John swooped a hand down and smacked Bruce's ass.

"Hey!" Bruce exclaimed with a laugh.

"I couldn't help it," John snickered as Bruce rinsed his hair. "Your butt's right there."

Bruce smirked and leaned closer, blocking the spray. "You know what else is right there?"

John bit his lip as Bruce's left hand closed over his hip– and then the right whipped down the washcloth, snuck from the caddy and soaked through. It caught the back of John's thigh, and he yelped and grabbed Bruce's shoulders. He hadn't felt flushed from the steam, but he sure did now.

"Did _that_ sting?" Bruce asked.

John only nodded, not sure he wanted to say how _nicely_ – but his dick managed to say enough on its own. Maybe too much, he worried, as Bruce looked down.

Bruce only chuckled and pulled John in by the waist for a kiss. "Noted," he murmured against John's lips.

And the twisted cloth came down again, this time across John's ass with another delightful shock.

John kissed Bruce with relief, that he didn't have to explain, that Bruce keyed into him so readily. Bruce rubbed the cloth over John's backside, aggravating the burn, and John rocked against him insistently, feeling Bruce harden in return.

Then Bruce pulled away. He got out another fancy bottle, this one body wash. "We still have to get clean," he said matter-of-factly, as if his erection wasn't reaching out for John's.

"Nooooo, you tease," John whined, grabbing his arm.

Bruce shushed him and worked up a lather on the washcloth, then started to clean John in slow circles, from his face down to his neck and shoulders. He thwarted John's attempts to kiss him, turning his head as if just looking at John from another angle. John felt less annoyed the closer Bruce's hand got to his dick– but a tease was a tease. Bruce dutifully washed John's stomach and hips, then continued to his thighs.

"Buddyyyyy…"

"What?" Bruce asked with an innocent look, stepping back to wash his own face and neck.

"Come oooon," John whined, reaching for Bruce's length.

Bruce evaded his reach. "Patience."

He moved behind John to scrub his back, and John was sure all the sparks on his skin would electrify the water and kill them both. They'd trade little deaths for shocking deaths, thanks to Bruce.

But then Bruce's lips pressed into the crook of John's neck, teeth tugging at the skin there. John sighed– then cried out again when the wound-up washcloth struck his front, right at the junction of his hip, so close to his cock. Bruce finally closed his fingers around the pale shaft, dropping the cloth onto the soaked towel under their feet. He wrapped his other arm around John's middle and moved in close, taking the spray on his shoulders. His hard length settled against John's ass, the tip resting on the small of his back.

John clutched the hand on his waist and reached back to grab Bruce's hair. He rolled his hips with the pace of Bruce's strokes, grinding back hard, not only for Bruce but to inflame the lingering burn on his skin. Low moans sounded in his ear, echoes coming from his own mouth.

John already felt himself approaching the edge, not least from the tantalizing glide of Bruce's cock, up his spine and down his cleft, so close to splitting him apart. The image came easily, Bruce shoving him against the wall and taking him, but John couldn't bear to ask for it, to stop the hand that wound him tighter and tighter. It was much easier to buck his hips into that tight grip.

"God," Bruce gasped, matching the faster pace.

John tipped his head back and let all the heat– the steam and the friction and Bruce's harsh breaths– overtake his senses. It built and built, boiling inside him, until a keen finally spilled from his lips. His hips stuttered and he tore at Bruce's hair. Bruce slowed his strokes, coming to a stop once he pulled free every last whimper.

But he kept a tight hold, moving his hand from John's flagging penis to his hip. He dug in his nails right where the towel had last struck, giving John a wonderful jolt as Bruce rutted against him. John rocked with him, thrilling when the pants in his ear turned to growls.

And soon enough to one satisfied groan, as Bruce's thrusts slowed and he spattered onto John's back. John's heart was still racing, spurred by a gleeful, unexpected confidence, because _he_ did that. John turned Bruce Wayne into a desperate animal. Bruce could find pleasure with anyone, and he'd chosen John, a near ghost, to grope and kiss and whisper sweet things to. 

"You feel so amazing," Bruce said, dipping into John's throat again.

"I feel powerful," John replied, hearing his own surprise.

At the quiet pause, he realized he was supposed to return the compliment, but then Bruce laughed. He tightened his embrace and kissed John's temple.

"Good," Bruce said, then sighed. "We better finish up and get back."

"Yeah," John agreed, "before the hot water runs out."

"What?"

Bruce felt the temperature change first, of course, with his back taking the brunt of the shower. John felt just a taste of ice on his legs and the back of his neck before Bruce cursed and dragged him out onto the damp concrete floor.

"Maybe I should have mentioned beforehand?" John giggled as Bruce let him go to shake off the chilled water.

"Maybe," Bruce said with a snort. "I hope we can crank it up long enough to wash off the mess we made of ourselves."

John twisted his fingers together with a hopeful look. "At least we know how long we have for next time?"

"Heh." Bruce's smirk came back. "Absolutely."  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> As for the scene in chapter 4, it will forever remain a romantic, magical mystery.


End file.
